


Ace in the Hole

by Metric_Mayhem



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M, Light Dom/sub, table turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:44:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2376929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metric_Mayhem/pseuds/Metric_Mayhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Layton is invited over to Emmy's house for tea and a nice card game to unwind from a long day at work. Little does he know of what KIND of game they were going to play...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ace in the Hole

With the smell of Earl Grey teasing their noses, both Layton and Emmy sat in the dining room of the woman’s humble abode. Their eyes were busy scanning the cards they held, making sure the hands were fit to play. A smile played the woman’s lips as she watched her superior’s eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. Even in a simple card game, the man only thought of it as a puzzle.

The young assistant was glad to finally unwind with the professor after two weeks of traveling from different dig sites as part of the extra credit curriculum he had assigned his failing students. She admired the dedication the man had with making sure his students passed. She didn’t mind accompanying them, as her efforts of keeping up with everyone were relatively easy to her. However, she would admit that it was slowly wearing her down; her sore thighs were a result of that.

The man took a sip of his cup of tea and sighed with a smile. Feeling the warm, bittersweet liquid travel down his throat reminded him of why he came in the first place: great tea, and company. His eyes traveled to the woman in yellow. Her eyes met his dark, piercing eyes for a moment before giving a friendly wink.

“How’s the tea?”

“Exceptionally well, as always,” he glanced into his near-empty cup. “You have a keen taste for making an Earl Grey.”

She chuckled from the praise and gave a teasing smile. “If Luke heard that, he’d be sorely disappointed. He does his best to make your tea, after all.”

“You both make tea in different ways that are satisfying to me.”

“I just make it better, right?” She laughed before he joined in with a chuckle of his own.

“Ah, yes, ready for the next move?”

“Yup, let’s go.”

The two placed their cards on the table. Not before long, Layton gave a sigh of disappointment. He knew his hand was terrible, but he supposed it was not the best idea to play this round. His eyes wandered to hers once again to see the slightest spark ignite from them. Her lips curled into an all-knowing smile.

“Ace high trumped by three of a kind. You know what that means…” she said with a singsong tone in her voice.

The professor tilted his head in confusion. “Well, er… to be perfectly honest, I don’t know. Not because I haven’t played Texas Hold’em before… But rather, you didn’t specify what would be the price of losing each round.”

“Oh, professor, I did mention it to you.”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed slightly once again as he tried to remember the conversation he had with her earlier.

\----

_The professor was in his office as always, this time writing a letter to Dean Delmona to allow the extra credit given to his struggling students. Of course, he knew Mr. Delmona wouldn’t deny the request because he also cared for the student populous, but it was best if he was given a fair notice for it. He dipped the end of his pen in the inkwell before choosing his next words carefully. As he placed the tip down to paper, a knock came to the door._

_“It’s me, Emmy!” a feminine voice rang from outside._

_“The door is unlocked, feel free to come in,” he raised his voice for her to hear._

_She walked in with stride, carrying a toolbox in her arms. “I was able to put all the extra tools back in storage. Here’s your own set, professor.” Smiling, she placed the toolbox in a corner of the room, out of the way of the organized clutter that normally was in place._

_“Thank you, my dear. Much appreciated.”_

_Her smile turned into a look of concern. “Hey, professor, you’re looking a bit tired.” She walked over and placed her hands on his shoulders. Before he could flinch from the touch, she began massaging. This earned a relaxed sigh from the tense man; his back arched in response._

_“I will admit, that field trip to four different dig sites has taken a toll on me.”_

_“Well, that’s definitely not good. What you could use is a little R and R.”_

_“Ah… That’s quite fine.” He lied, noticing how close they both were._

_“Ok, ok. I won’t push it. But I still think you could use some time off, or at least go to a more relaxed setting rather than work in your office all day after working in the pits.”_

_His voice faltered after a small popping sound was heard. “E-Erk, perhaps you’re right. I should probably ask to retire for the rest of the day and rest at home.”_

_After noticing the sound, she rubbed the nape of his neck carefully. “You’re more than welcome to come over to my house after you clock out for the day. Maybe a nice cuppa, a relaxing game of poker for fun… How’s that sound?”_

_For some reason, the man felt as if he swallowed his tongue. He did his best to keep his composure so she wouldn’t worry. “I believe it’s best if I decline. I truly wish not to burden you.”_

_“Aw, come on,” she brought her cheek to his and gave the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. “Pleeeeease? You really deserve it.”_

_His will slowly crumbled as his eyes darted away from hers with a blush. “Sorry, I don’t gamble…”_

_“It’s a friendly match of Texas Hold’em. For what we’re doing, we won’t need money. Trust me. It’ll be like… a huge puzzle game of wits! I’ll even make your favorite Earl Grey before we play.”_

_The man closed his eyes and weighed his options. The most he’d do at home is make a pot of tea and would most likely fall asleep on the couch after drinking a cup. Luke would not be keeping the professor company since he was away on a family vacation, leaving his mentor alone at home. On the other hand, if he were to go over to Emmy’s house, he’d be greeted to a friendly face, a cup of his favorite tea, and a nice relaxing game of cards. Considering that he would at least have the company of his friend and assistant, there was little reason to refuse._

_“Alright. I suppose staying for a… ‘cuppa’ wouldn’t hurt.”_

_“Great! You won’t regret it, professor!”_

\-----

After recalling the events earlier, only one detail came to mind, and he spoke of it immediately. “You only mentioned that for this particular match of Texas Hold’em we wouldn’t need money. But if we weren’t using game chips or something of worth, I haven’t the foggiest idea how we’d play-”

The idea came to mind mid-sentence. He inwardly cursed himself for thinking such ungentlemanly thoughts. That could not be the solution to this question, could it? Layton swallowed audibly.

Emmy flashed a gentle smile at the man, feigning her innocence. “I thought it’d help unwind further if we didn’t use money of any sorts, so… I thought maybe a friendly match of strip poker would do the trick... After all, we’re pretty comfortable with each other,” she nodded.

He has known her for four—soon to be five—years and they both have established a comfort level that not many would have. They’ve slept in the same hotel rooms together (with Luke of course), shared meals with each other, praised each other when at their best, and helped each other when at their worst. The best description for their relationship was borderline husband/wife behavior. However, this was more-or-less unbeknownst to him because of how differently he viewed it.

“I-I suppose we’ve reached a certain point to where we know each other fairly well. But perhaps this isn’t quite the manner of which you’re talking about,” he said hesitantly, trying to defuse the situation that was unfolding.

Now that he knew the answer as to how the game was to be played, he noticed the air being particularly warm. It was not too uncomfortable to where he’d make a fuss about it, but enough for sweat to appear. Could she have possibly set the temperature this way on purpose?

“Ah…” her eyes lowered before they landed on his nearly finished cup of tea. The tone of voice sounded unsure, meek, and dejected. “Right, I understand. Oh, your tea’s running low… Want another cup, or…?”

“No, no, that’s quite fine. Thank you.”

A few minutes went by as the two sat in silence.

“Sorry for pushing this on you. I honestly thought you wouldn’t have minded. Silly huh?” She laughed awkwardly.

Layton, still recovering from earlier, tried his best to laugh as well. “The thought is… humorous. I suppose I don’t mind of it… had I some warning.”

What was he saying? Of course he would mind it! He was in the privacy of her home, and nearly played a debaucherous card game with her. Yet somehow the thought of it… tempted him. The game was what most would call dubious, but certainly Emmy was quite the opposite. He knew her well, despite her wildcard tendencies. Perhaps this was her way of saying “Let’s get to know each other better.”

A game of poker is quite the game to “bond” over. One would learn of another’s unease through their expressions and would make decisions based upon that or how he/she felt. It was much like a… puzzle. The college professor finally understood. His stomach had butterflies and was ready to do backflips from the idea of pursuing this game any further; however, he was willing to take a challenge for solving puzzles and to learn more about those closest to him.

“We can continue if you wish,” he blurted out.

“Huh?” Her mouth hung open slightly. The look was fairly amusing, but a gentleman doesn’t laugh at another’s expense.

“Er… I was saying it would be fine to continue the game. …I’ll abide by the rules given,” Layton leaned down and pulled off one of his shoes before neatly placing it under the table.

“Oh, uh, ok then,” Emmy blinked in astonishment. Layton is actually going to continue a game of strip poker? That’s quite a surprise; very unlike him. Why the sudden change of heart?

She dealt the cards for their next round. Their eyes scanned their hands as carefully as possible. The man looked over to see the slightest look of disappointment in her eyes: a perfect opportunity to strike. Once her eyes focused on his, he made sure his face was expressionless.

“Ready to go?”

“Of course, my dear.”

Once the cards hit the table, she sighed and shrugged with a smile. “I guess it’s my turn.” She easily pulled off a boot and dropped it to the floor.

Over a short period of time, both shoes and socks have been discarded. The two sat in silence once again.

Before long, Emmy replied, “Well, this’ll be an interesting match from here on, eh, Professor?”

He pulled his hat over his eyes to avoid her seeing a bashful look on his face. “I suppose so.”

In the following round, Emmy lost to a royal flush and surprisingly (or not), she was not disappointed in the slightest. Standing up, she removed her pink bow and started to strip herself of her yellow jacket.

After noticing, the professor did his best to avert eye contact with a blush. She smirked at this and prolonged the effort of unbuttoning her shirt, arching her back. A seductive sigh left her lips as her hands ghosted over the remaining fasteners of the blazer.

 _“What in heaven’s name is she doing?_ ” Layton’s mind screamed.

She _must_ be messing with his mind as part of the game; there was no other reason she would be doing these actions in such a manner that his train of thought stopped. The cheeks of his face grew warmer after seeing the jacket abandoned on the floor. His eyes instinctively focused back on the woman in front of him only to look down once more. She was still decent; she wore a blouse. Unfortunately for him, that blouse was very thin and he can see the workings of lingerie from within.

This is quickly turning into a dangerous match for the professor.

“Anything wrong, Profess-”

“Quite fine, thank you. Um… let’s continue on, shall we?” he nearly squeaked out.

\---

The next turn resulted in Layton’s loss of his coat; on the other hand, he gained a pair of eyes looking him over. He felt eyes follow every contour of his toned muscles, burning through his shirt with their curious gaze. He cleared his throat to get the attention of his assistant once more. Giving a shy smile, she gathered the cards that were previously played and dealt again.

“ _I don’t think this game can continue much further. My mind is running tangent, and I fear she may be the same. As a matter of fact, I think the last round I lost due to my lack of attention._ ”

With another round out of the way, Emmy’s trousers were soon peeled off to meet her jacket on the floor. Dark eyes met long curvy legs; those eyes moved down from her feet, up to black lacy underwear.  He wanted to break away. He wanted to remain as gentlemanly as possible. Something inside made him hate his decision for continuing the game. Something of him loved every moment of it and sought immediate attention from the female.

Onward, Layton lost another round, yet again. He saw his assistant’s eyes look at him expectantly. He really wasn’t sure what to remove now. The only choices left were his hat, his shirt or his pants. The poor man was in quite a pickle.

 A gentleman never removes his hat; that much is certain. A gentleman also does not remove his pants, especially if they are making a very irregular shape under the current circumstances. If he were to remove his shirt – he would still wind up with the brunette eyeing him (hopefully not on purpose, but under the same situation befalling him).  With little other choice, his head retreated in the shirt before he pulled off his hat so his playing partner would not see his hatless head. He slowly began to lift his shirt revealing the tanned, toned abs underneath. Once the top was up and over his head, he expertly slipped his hat back on once again.

He folded his arms over his chest to avoid her eyes, but to no avail. Folding those arms caused him to inadvertently flex, to which she replied with an appreciative whistle. The next question she asked had him on edge.

“Whoa, I had no idea… Hey, Professor, do you mind if I had a feel?” she asked shyly.

“W-What?” A million thoughts flashed at once for him, and not one was of a way out.

“Can I touch your muscles? It’s not often I meet a fit guy of an educational institution.” A smile grew on her face as she stood up from her seat to walk over to him.

His face reddened with each step she took as he stammered to form a sentence. “Er… E-Emmy, I… I think this isn’t the way to… What I meant to say was-Gah!”

Her fingertips grazed along his right bicep, feeling smooth, yet rigid skin. He nearly yelped at the unrestrained touch. Hands found their way to his shoulders and soon groped his strong chest. Layton could only look into her eyes to find them suddenly dilating, giving a haunting, lustful appearance he never seen from her before.

“E-Emmy, I think that’s quite enough…” His voice fell on deaf ears as she moved her way into his lap to continue her hands’ quest.

“I really never saw you this way before… You’re a lot more athletic than I gave you credit for,” her voice was but a whisper.

“W-Well, a gentleman stays in shape should anything occur… I would need such strength for fencing as well as for archeological digging…” he spoke earnestly.

The situation should be diffused by now, so why is he allowing this? Why are his eyes having a hard time focusing on hers? As his stomach felt her hands rub against it, he tilted his head back and bit his tongue to avoid a moan. She shifted in his lap slightly. He could only hope that she was not aware of the “growing” problem that lied underneath her.

With every touch, it was harder to remain controlled. Dizziness and lightheadedness followed. He pulsed from within. There were only three layers that separated him from her, after all. It was all but easy to just let go; to shed everything right then and there and take her away. But he was Professor Hershel Layton, archeology professor and quite possibly the perfect picture of an English gentleman. A gentleman should never give in to temptation.

Layton grabbed her hands before they moved on any further. After looking up at him, she blushed, realizing what she was doing and muttered a “Sorry.” Once she got up and went to the other side of the table, he breathed a sigh of relief for avoiding yet another advance.

The next game was a blur to them both with Emmy having to lose her blouse. Did he even look at his cards before placing them down? Did she? His cheeks burned and eyes were sore from only focusing the rim of his hat. If he dared to look from under his hat, he would see lacy underwear and he would go mad. This wasn’t a poker game anymore; this was cruel punishment. He completely forgot his purpose for staying; he wouldn’t remember with distractions abound.

“Professor? Professor, are you ok?” he sensed her concern, but could not properly reply his answer.

He still hid his face under his hat where he wouldn’t see her. There was a sound of a chair moving and footsteps, then a light gasp. “Professor…uh… my bathroom’s over to the right.”

He rose up from his seat only to see the strain his pants revealed. Before long, he finally took his top hat off and quickly covered the sight. Gentlemen don’t take off their hats, but they do when a rude gesture is done. “Erk… I’m fine…”

After his eyes crossed to hers, he noticed her top was only unbuttoned and was not completely removed (thank goodness). There was something off about the sleeves... If only he had a better look.

Her hand went to stroke his short, wild mane with a sigh. “It doesn’t look like it. You always overwork yourself… If you don’t relax, your body won’t be able to keep up with you anymore.”

His hand grabbed hers suddenly. Now he knows what was off about the sleeves of her shirt. His demeanor completely changed. “…Miss Altava, care to explain what this is?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Uh… what’s what?”

Two fingers slipped through the opening to pull out a card. “What’s this?”

She looked away, pretending not to care. “A…card? I honestly don’t see what the fuss is about-”

“You cheated.”

“That’s quite a strong accusation, Professor.”

His hand cupped her chin before lightly turning her head to face him. “This is not blame, my dear. This is a puzzle solved.”

“And how so?”

“There is clear evidence you cheated, and even clearer evidence you purposely lost several rounds in order to make the game seem fair. It is fairly hard to turn a blind eye at this point.”

She smirked. “…Alright. I guess the jig is up. I’m actually surprised you found out this far. …We were both just a few rounds away to being completely bare.”

He looked away in embarrassment. “Well, admittedly, I was…fairly distracted. I might have had a hunch earlier, but… I could not respond under certain conditions.”

“Oh, you were aroused by me?” Long, toned legs swayed as she walked closer to him.

His face turned a deep crimson. “Er, well, I wouldn’t say _aroused..._ Perhaps maybe a bit-”

“Turned on?”

Layton raised his hands and frantically waved them. “No, no, no… not that.” He knew she was teasing him, but his mind was slowly grasping at straws to maintain his usual attitude. If she doesn’t stop however, distinct “methods” would have to be used.

“Stimulated…?” Her nose grazed his.

Something has to give.

“…You know Emmy, I’ve learned a lot about you since we began playing. And I can see you don’t necessarily listen to words...” He lifted her legs up and carefully swept her into his arms. “…You only pay attention to action.”

A hand gently gripped her backside which was promptly met with a moan. “I must say, that was quite a performance you did. For the slightest moment…I was nearly at my limit,” he chuckled good-naturedly with a charmed smile. The smile then turned mischievous. “And now I’ll gladly help you reach yours.”

“H-Huh?” Her mouth hung once more.

Layton set her down in his lap. “On your knees, please.”

She looked at him and momentarily contemplated if he was someone else. “Uh…”

“On your knees. _Now_ ,” he growled affectionately into her ear.

Eyes now wide, his assistant moved out of his lap and slowly looked to the floor. She looked back to see he moved from his chair and enclosed the distance between them. His hands wrapped around her waist and gently pushed her down to where she was on her hands and knees. A blush spread across her face as she huffed a bit. She doesn’t like being dominated and unfortunately, Layton made it too enjoyable to raise any objections.

A hand found its way under her chin and a finger stroked it softly as a deep voice entered her ear. “Thank you, my dear.”

She leaned her head back in response, holding back another moan. Emmy was slowly losing control as he did earlier. She loved it.

“Hm… you look a bit hot and bothered. Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

Soon her black lingerie found the floor, her feminine form fully revealed to him. Her bare backside met the fabric of the man’s pants as he grinded against her; the electrifying feeling coursed through her body. Sweat dripped from her torso, illuminating her skin with a porcelain shine.

“T-Tease…” she moved around in his grip, only to be restricted further.

The man smiled before unfastening his pants and removing them along with his underwear. “I suppose one action reciprocates the same, wouldn’t you agree?”  Both hands grasped her legs and tenderly moved them apart. “I won’t tease you much longer…”

His cock, still active from earlier, poked at her slicked entrance. Without a moment’s hesitation, he plunged in, taking her by surprise. As the man delved further and further, his partner barely held herself up by her arms. She threw her head back, moaning in pure delight. Once reaching the deepest part her sweet inner sanctum, he pulled back and proceeded to buck against her rhythmically.

Her mind was at a total blank. She did nothing else but held herself as straight as possible and called out her lover’s name. “Nnngh…H-Hershel!”

He pulsed from within after hearing her aroused voice. After placing his loving kisses along her back, Layton continued the rhythm with enough force that his hat fell from his head. His own grunts soon mingled amongst her moaning in sweet harmony.

“I’m… g-getting close, a-aah!”

It was then he halted and took the time to hold her up by her torso, pushing in yet again.

Her breath hitched as she squirmed in his grip. With another buck of his hips, she squealed, drool slowly running from her mouth. She was stuck in somewhat of an awkward pose and even worse, her sweet release was being prevented.

A deep, promiscuous whisper graced her ear. “Ah, ah. I’m afraid if you want it, you’ll have to beg.”

“B-Beg?” she repeated in surprise. Whatever last minute surprises he was pulling, it was driving her mad.  And she still loved and adored every minute of being under him.

“Yes, my dear. That’s all I wish.”

Her voice was caught in her throat as she struggled to form a sentence.”A-Aah… P-Please, give it to me…”

As if feeling disappointed, the man clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t sound too convincing…”

His movements became a bit rougher. She bounced from the force, falling into his lap at the end of every interval. Her body arched each time, her moans increasing its volume. The build-up from within only added to her excitement. She was on her last leg.

“Oh god! You win! Just…f-finish me already! Please!” Emmy managed yelled out.

After placing her back down to her hands and knees, he thrust back in with significant force. With her arousal properly lubricated, his hot cock found her very core easily. Every teasing poke made her knees buckle from pleasure. The world around them became hazy and slow as they continue their act.

“H-Hershel, please!”

“Of… of course, my dear.”

She felt the grip around her hips tighten as the man let out his last outwardly cry.

The seed of his desire poured in waves as he claimed her. Before long, he was bold to pull out and drew along her back with his still stiffened member. Her legs, now tired and numb, finally gave way. His hands met her hips as he caught her.

“Erk… Hopefully you’re quite alright…” he panted.

Emmy looked back to see him stroke her messy hair in long, loving strokes. “A-aside not being able to feel my own legs, I’m fine…”

Sticky fluid flowed down her back, causing her to arch and shiver. He smiled humbly at her. “Ah… Did you enjoy yourself?”

 _“If ‘Oh god, yes’ was considered an answer, then by all means,”_ she thought to herself. A simple nod was all she did.

“Good.” The man chuckled and moved closer to her ear. ”However, next time you tease me in such a harsh manner, I’m afraid you won’t be sitting for a week. Surely you understand that a gentleman can only take so much.” Reinforcing his point, he ground against her backside gently, causing her to gasp.

“Y-Yes, sir,” she squeaked.

The two stood up after a long breather. As Layton was moving to pick up his discarded clothes, he was prompted with a question. “Um… Hershel, considering it’s well past midnight now; would you like to stay the night?”

He returned to his naturally meek demeanor after looking at the analog clock displayed on the wall. “ _Two in the morning. Oh dear… perhaps I got a bit too carried away…”_ he mentally scolded himself.

“If you don’t mind, that is…” she chuckled weakly.  Her soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“I would love to, my dear. Thank you very much for everything.”

She led the tired man to her bedroom, remarking on how gentle he was. The two kissed as they shared a loving embrace under the bed sheets and fell asleep with ease. When morning arrived, the professor awoke feeling more refreshed than he had been in quite some time.  Emmy was definitely a woman of her word: he did not regret his visit.


End file.
